


Friday, I'm in Love

by taylocrow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Family, Fluff, Smut, song fic kinda sorta, they're not related, winter break wahoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-18 04:58:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8149889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Jon is crashing at the Stark's for winter break and a certain forbidden red haired fruit can't stay off his mind. Inspired by my love for the holiday season and The Cure's classic song "Friday, I'm in Love"





	1. Monday

_I don't care if Monday's black_  
Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack  
Thursday never looking back  
It's Friday I'm in love 

 

# Monday

Jon wasn’t supposed to be here. He did not belong here. He should not be here. 

He silently repeated the mantra in his head over and over and over as Sansa Stark stood before him with a too short t-shirt as a nightgown. Her pale pink underwear was bright against her milky long legs, and Jon licked his lips before forcing his line of vision to his bare feet on her plush carpet. 

“I really can’t! Please Jon!” Sansa reached high above her head, fiddling with the TV mount on her wall. Her ass completely out of the t-shirt, grunting at her efforts, and tongue stuck out of the corner of her supple rose lips in concentration. Jon gulped and drew a deep breath. 

He should not be here.

Robb had insisted on him bailing on his previous winter break plan of crashing on his Aunt Dany’s couch and getting some extra cash working at her law firm. But instead he was now in Winterfell for one last holiday hurrah. He only had one more semester before finishing grad school at Kings Landing U with Robb. So instead of Aunt Dany’s couch he was crashing on the Stark’s instead. Well, basement in their ridiculously large family estate. Robb insisted on one last family winter break with bar hopping, drunken Christmas carol karaoke, and his mom’s delicious cooking. Jon had always been a fixture in the home and family. His father was a flighty and absent son of a bitch for the entirety of his life and his mother passed when he was just two years old. 

Winterfell was home to him and the Stark estate was a palace he had the pleasure of getting to dick around in for one last winter season before heading back to due dates, studying, and his damn thesis. A job was already lined up for him up further north, at a company called Castle Black where he’d be doing IT programming. 

Thus why he was summoned by his best friend’s kid sister to mess with her TV. “If you have some nerd degree, surely you can help with my stupid television.” She had nagged at him when he tried to avoid entering the belly of the beast. 

Sansa was no longer Robb’s baby sister. In fact, she was far from it. One day she was playing princesses, then glued to her cell phone on whatever social media, and finally now she was all…woman. She was at school in the Vale and was studying some fashion crap. Sansa wore a lot of nice looking girl clothes and he guessed she was always pretty good at that kind of thing. Jon couldn’t remember exactly when he started paying so much attention to Sansa Stark, of all people, but he did his best to not dwell on it too often.

Jon cleared his throat in an attempt to focus on the task at hand. The stupid TV. Why was she wearing a t-shirt like that? He subconsciously tilted his head as he read the baseball teams decorated on the back and he felt his own eyes narrow. “What?” Sansa snapped. 

Jon shook his head and took a step closer, “Just fiddle with the cord. I think it’s just the HDMI cord came loose.” 

Sansa furrowed her brows before a devilish grin crawled across her face. “I got this shirt from Loras.” 

Jon looked between her and the TV deliberately avoiding that subject. Loras who? He wanted to ask. But he kept his mouth shut and pointed at the thick black cord dangling from the back of her flat screen. Sansa didn’t make any moves to touch it, instead took a step back and crossed her arms. 

“What?” Jon dropped his pointed finger and glared at her. 

“I’m not dating him anymore, Jon.” Sansa looked down at the raggedy white t-shirt swallowing up her small frame. 

“Ok.” Jon nodded and looked back at the TV. He was still standing an awkward distance from it and he feared that if he stepped up to just do it himself, Sansa would talk more about Loras. He really, truly didn’t want to know and to be quite honest, didn’t care.

“Will you just do it? Christ.” She tossed her long, fire locks from one shoulder to the other and dramatically tapped her sock feet on the floor impatiently. Making a show of waiting on him to do whatever she pleased. 

God, she was such a princess.

Jon crossed her floor to just mess with the damn cables himself and heard her plop herself down on her bed. He wasn’t really trying at this point, merely just running his hands along the back of the mount, trying to focus on anything but the fact that she was pant less and lying on her bed merely two feet from him. Sansa let out a sigh, “Loras broke up with me last week.”

Jon nodded numbly and looked over his shoulder, “I’m sorry.” His voice dripped with forced sympathy. Sansa was back on her feet and creeping towards him. “I saw you, you know.”

Jon stopped with the HDMI cord once more, fully turning his attention to her. His veins were solid ice with a huge chunk of guilt stuck at the back of his throat. Words escaped him and he silently begged for any one of the Stark siblings to come barreling through the hallway looking for either of them. 

She knew?

Jon had been staying in the basement after all. That had been his excuse for when he walked in on Sansa and a boy, whom he now guessed must’ve been Loras. Jon had come home late from a silly poker game at Theon’s with Robb. Jon had come down the stairs whistling and buzzed, ready to watch some Law and Order: SVU with a cold beer in tote. That was when he saw Sansa.

The man had his back to Jon but was completely bare, pumping into Sansa’s moaning, naked body. They were leaned up against the counter of the kitchenette where Jon made his sandwiches. He cringed for a moment, unsure of how to react. This was Robb’s little sister getting pounded right before his eyes. The beautiful woman she had become with her tight shirts, and long hair, and lavender vanilla girl smell that would be stuck in his mind for days after an encounter with her. 

He couldn’t look away.

Her eyes rolling back, her moaning his name, his hips meeting hers in such a desperate, seeking way that Jon had no choice but to watch. Loras sucked at her neck, her breasts, and encouraged her further and further. Sansa called out his name and her electric blue eyes shot open, making direct contact with his. Jon almost gasped. He awkwardly and hurriedly stumbled up the steps to crash on the couch. His dick uncomfortably hard at the vision of Sansa’s taut body pushed against his counter with her perky, pale tits in Loras’ mouth.

“Saw what?” Jon played cool and playfully narrowed his eyes at her, daring her to say what she did aloud. 

Sansa took another step closer to him, close enough that he could smell the lavender vanilla. He fought the urge to bite his lip and stared at her, willing her to say something. She didn’t. She licked her bottom lip and pushed her hair back from her shoulders, so it cascaded down her back like an auburn waterfall. Jon’s heart panged when he imagined running his fingers through it. 

He shouldn’t be here.

Sansa was always at an arm’s distance. Watching The Notebook or at church with her mother. And since a year ago all Jon could think about were the dirty things he would do to her in the pews. Licking up her hot, wet pussy and have her calling his name in the middle of the service. Chills ran up his spine when Sansa placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed.

“What? What, Sansa?” He practically begged. 

In one swift movement, she leaned over to plug her television in. The broadcast of some new episode of whatever teenage network was suddenly blaring through the television speakers. Sansa smiled mischievously and stepped back into being too close for Jon’s comfort. 

“Sansa.” He spoke over the reality show that lit up her childhood room. 

“You saw Loras fucking me and you wished it was you. You wished that you had been the one that had me on your counter and calling out your name. You watched me because you wished it were you. Not Loras.” Sansa was so close he could smell her toothpaste. “You want to fuck me, Jon Snow. I know it and you know it and you’ve been avoiding me since I got tits because you don’t want Robb to know it.”

Jon inwardly groaned and felt his eyes darken. He didn’t recognize the confident, sexy woman before him. She resembled nothing of the girl who used to beg Jon and Robb to play Knights and Princesses with her. She had always forced Jon to be the bad guy who kidnapped her, leaving Robb to rescue the damsel in distress. The memory rocked Jon to his core and he stepped away from her enticing smell and mile long, bare legs. 

“Jon.” Her voice wavered and Jon felt it right to his very core, the pull at his lower stomach and the hardening of his cock. God dammit all to hell.

“Hey!” Robb called from the top of the staircase and down the hall from where he and Sansa were currently standing. Robb was obviously home from his shift at one of his Dad’s warehouses. Jon groaned and Sansa’s eyes flickered with need. Jon wanted to pull her close and rip the damn t-shirt off her body, push her onto her pink bed and have her screaming his name. But instead he just gaped her. 

“Hi Robb!” Sansa exclaimed with her eyes glued to Jon. She pulled her t-shirt off, exposing herself in just a pale pink bra that matched her pink panties, “Don’t come in, I’m naked!” Jon choked at the vision in front of him. Her boldness almost making him forget who they were and where they were for a moment. 

“Gross! Don’t leave your door open, ya freak!” Robb teased before shutting his bedroom door behind him. 

The moment shattered. The tension was split. Sansa might’ve been half naked and beautiful before him, but Robb’s voice just jerked him back to the reality of what the hell he was thinking. Jon stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your TV works.”

“I thought you had a nerd degree in technology? All it needed was to be plugged in all the way.” Sansa stuck her tongue in her cheek. 

Fuck.

She knew exactly what she was doing and she had him read like a page from her favorite magazine.

She turned and walked to her dresser, grabbing an actual nightgown and pulling it over her thin, taut body. “Thanks Jon.” Her voice was formal and dismissive, causing Jon to turn and start to exit her room. 

“Will you be back later?” Sansa’s voice hung in the air, even over the ridiculous reality show.

Jon may have had his back turned but he knew exactly how her perfect fucking face looked. Pouty and precious. Jon stiffened in her doorway and shook his head. Jesus Christ. Who did he think he was? This was Robb’s fucking sister! He grew up along him and her and the rest of the Stark clan. Guilt and nausea rocked his body. 

He looked over his shoulder to see her in a black nightgown, begging to be torn off and thrown aside. Jon jerked his head back forward and shook his head once more. “Sansa. We- I- This-“ Jon cleared his throat, “Goodnight, Sansa Stark.” And he began to head down the hallway.

“Jon Snow.” Sansa’s whisper lingered in his ear as he grabbed his hard cock once he was alone in his basement. Dark and alone with the image of Sansa in that Black nightie, bent over and begging over the kitchenette counter. 

This winter break would be the absolute _death_ of him.

 

_I don’t care if Monday’s black_


	2. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a reference:  
> Jon and Robb are 25  
> Sansa is 22  
> Arya is 20  
> Bran is 18 (and not in a wheelchair)  
> Rickon is 14

# Tuesday

Tonight was the dreaded Stark Steel Industry's holiday party. Everyone looked forward to it except for Jon. And probably Arya. He’d sit at the end of the table, swallow as much booze as possible without gaining notice from Ned or Catelyn, and avoid as many old people as possible. He didn't feel like talking about his major, what he was doing, or how he was related. 

It wasn't his fault his dad was the sack of shit who screwed over Ned 20 some years ago, yet every Stark employee loved to remind him of it with snide comments and side eyes.

He looked over at Bran across the kitchen island and pretended to hang himself with the evergreen tie around his neck. Bran burst out laughing and spewed water all over the kitchen floors. “Brandon Stark! Grab a paper towel right now! I do not have time to play games.” Catelyn hissed through clenched teeth as she tore a brush through Arya’s knotted hair. 

Arya sat before her mother’s standing figure in a kitchen chair, donning a black ball gown. She looked so grown up and mature that Jon almost felt like squeezing her in for a hug. But wisely decided against it when Arya’s scowl turned to a grimace when Catelyn insisted she wear her hair up. 

“How much longer ‘til the cars get here?” Robb asked absently while he scrolled through his phone and nursed a scotch. Ned then entered the kitchen and grabbed the glass from his eldest son, taking a swing and grinning, “5 minutes.” Robb smiled at his dad before finishing off the drink. 

“Why Miss Arya, don’t you look lovely?” Ned teased his daughter and Jon feared for his life and bit back a chuckle from the glare that beamed from Arya’s green eyes. 

“Come on! Mom! Just leave me be!” Arya crossed her arms, “I’m already wearing the stupid dress that stinky San picked out!” She fussed and dramatically rolled her head back like a toddler when her mother tugged at her combed hair. Catelyn effortlessly twisted it into an formal bun, pinned it, and patted her youngest daughter’s shoulders. 

“Where the heck _is_ Sansa?” Rickon piped up, he was seated beside Bran at the island and sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Jon had promised him that he’d stay up with him after the party to play Destiny, he had been a jerk about blowing off the youngest Stark this visit.

As if on cue, Sansa glided into the room with such effortless grace that everything in the chaotic home fell silent. The oxygen left the room. 

Sansa’s hair was loosely curled and fell down the open back of her vibrant red dress, hugging her curves and had her waist cinched tight with a satin bow. A perfect gift for Jon to unwrap. He licked his lips as he watched her waltz before her sister and mother, her exposed breasts bobbing with each step.

“Wow.” Ned beamed at his daughter, “You look beautiful, my darling Sans.” He crossed the kitchen to pull her in for an embrace. She smiled brightly and thanked him, pulling back from his hug and smiling sympathetically at her little sister.

“Arya, you look magnificent.” 

“Aw, screw off San.” She flicked her off and Catelyn whacked at her back. Arya grinned and rolled her eyes. “Can we just go already! I want to drink and dance and eat some roast beef!” 

“We have the meats!” Rickon shouted followed by Bran and Robb joining in on Arby’s ridiculous commercial tune. 

“DUN DUN DUN DUN!” 

Ned and Catelyn laughed but all Jon could see was Sansa. 

She was something to behold. Elegant and bold. 

Sansa’s eyes met his and a slow smile grew upon her face. “Hi Jon, you look nice.” She scanned his body and he uncomfortably shifted and cleared his throat. 

“Sure looks nice for a piece of shit!” Robb teased as he dropped his glass into the sink and then moved to stand over beside him. Jon stiffened and nodded at Sansa, “You too.” 

Robb sneered and rolled his eyes, “Princess Sansa, ready for the Christmas Ball!” She stuck her tongue out as she flicked him off. 

“Hey! How come Sansa can flip the bird and no one says a thing!” Arya stomped her heel and turned as red as Sansa’s gown. Jon couldn’t help himself, he laughed loudly and everybody else joined in. His eyes helplessly flickered over to Sansa, and electricity cracked through the air. The familiar pull.

“Cars are here!” Ned held his phone in the air and read off who was riding with who, “Bran, Rickon, Jon and I. Sansa, Arya, Mom, and Robb in the other. And BREAK!” He clapped and playfully began to run towards the back door and outside. 

Jon fell back to walk behind Sansa. To watch her link arms with her little brother Rickon and laugh at some childish joke he made. The family all exited out the front door and cascaded down the front steps to the Ubers waiting for them in the driveway. Jon looked around for Robb and saw that he was far ahead and beside his father. Rickon let go of Sansa and ran up to catch up with the rest of the Stark men and Jon took his opportunity to sneak in beside her.

“You really do look beautiful.” He whispered in her ear and pulled back to watch her shit eating grin. God, she was a piece of work. His heart fluttered when she grabbed his hand for a split second and squeezed, “Thanks, Jon.” His name sounded dirty on her lips. 

Jon jerked his hand his hand from her hold when he caught Robb glancing over his shoulder at his family climbing into their respective cars. Jon immediately headed over to get in line behind Bran. “Sucks to be in the girl car.” Rickon scoffed, teasing Robb. “No way, how lucky is he to be in a car full of so many beautiful ladies?” Ned called from the passenger seat and blew a kiss to his wife, who was shoving Arya’s dress into the car behind her. 

“See you there!” Robb waved as he playfully shoved Sansa in the middle. Sansa glanced over her shoulder to lock eyes with Jon one last time before disappearing into the SUV. This was going to be a long ass car ride to the museum where the ball was happening if he didn’t focus on anything but Sansa. He was silent for most of the drive, solemnly staring out the window and biting at his tongue and cheeks to punish himself for thinking such dirty thoughts about her while in the car with her brothers and father. 

His brothers and father. 

Jon needed some fucking air. 

He practically jumped from the car as soon as they arrived, shakily grabbing a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and whipping one out to light. “Not so fast Jon Snow! No sir!” Catelyn was suddenly beside him ripping the unlit cigarette from his lips and shoving it in his jacket pocket. “Smoke later when everyone is drunk, including me. I do not want to be sober and watching you smoke a cancer stick.” She glowered before grabbing his face and kissing his cheek, “You look so handsome, you sweet boy.” She stroked her thumb lovingly across his right cheekbone before kissing his forehead and letting him go. 

Fuck.

Jon looked to his left and then to his right, and felt a soft hand on his shoulder, causing him to jump. “Jesus Christ!” He exclaimed and grabbed his chest, “You’re going to give me a fucking _heart attack_.” Sansa smirked from behind him and grabbed his arm, linking it with hers just as she had been with Rickon. “Promise me you’ll dance with me?” Sansa looked up at his wistfully, her brilliant blue eyes dreamy and hopeful.

Jon bit his lip and just pulled her closer with his arm. 

God help him.

They entered the front doors and walked into a marvelous marble room. Christmas music blared from the speakers as the cheery band played their hearts out. The lighting was dim and romantic, with long tables decorated with pinecones and evergreens and everything winter. Cinnamon filled the air and Jon noted the garland and ornaments dangling from above his head. He pulled away from Sansa once more as they met up in a Stark family huddle. 

“Thank you. All of you. Be good tonight.” Ned’s hard and loving eyes stared down everyone before they all piled their hands in for a family chant. “Go Starks!” And they all tossed their hands up in the air. 

Robb slapped Jon on the back and shoved a beer in his hand, “Isn’t this better than Aunt Dany’s in Dragonstone?” He took a swig of his own beer before nodding his head over at a group of gorgeous women around their age. This party was insane. The people, the music, the decorations. Jon felt so overwhelmed.

The family mingled separately with various guests, workers, and friends. Holiday music played in the background as they found their seats at the family table. Ned even teared up during his big speech as he thanked everyone for their hard work and wished everybody a happy holiday season. Dinner was served quickly and seamlessly. Sure enough, Arya’s roast beef was the highlight of the meal. She took a giant bite imitating a cave man, earning a laugh from Jon and Bran but Sansa just rolled her eyes as her Mother glared. 

Everything was going fine and well. As expected. 

He’d been given a couple snarky remarks from some warehouse guys, a side eye from Ned’s VP, and overheard a loud drunken exclamation in recognition of being his shitty dad’s son, scooped up and saved by the Starks. “ _How lucky is he?_ ” The lady had sneered and Jon finished another beer.

Jon avoided Sansa at all costs, leaving every time she was in the same social circle. Keeping a fair distance from the dance floor and even sneakily rearranging the seating chart so that she was next to Rickon and a far enough away from him that he would have to be obvious to watch her during dinner. 

Jon just fucking couldn’t.

All her hair and smell and that damn red dress. He couldn’t get her pink panties from the night before out of his mind. How long had she known? How long had she planned on confronting him about it? 

If there was one thing Jon Snow knew, it was that he did not deserve a girl like Sansa Stark. She needed a man who would say all the right things and sing her songs and buy her flowers. Not betray her family just to go out on a date.  
She deserved a guilt free man. Someone who could always be there and not be afraid of her Dad or Robb walking in.

Jesus Christ. Robb.

Jon looked away from the marketing executive he was politely chatting with to see Robb had his arm haphazardly strung across a lovely girl’s shoulder. He laughed and talked with such ease that Jon felt the familiar rage of jealousy brewing in his stomach. 

Robb Stark with the looks, money, ladies, friends, and family. Everything was so easy for Robb Stark. No baggage, no awkwardness, and most of all, all the confidence in the world. Nothing stressed Robb Stark. He faced every problem head on and with such strength that he rarely ever lost. That was how he got through school. Robb Stark didn’t pour over books or make flash cards, he crammed and scammed. Jon wanted to hate him sometimes. But that was just Robb. His best friend. His brother.

Jon nodded at the man before him; acting interested in his pep talk about solar energy and looked around for Ned Stark. Joking and pointing up at the decorations and then to his wife proudly. Cat had truly worked hard on this event and it had all paid off. 

“Excuse me,” Sansa’s soft voice rang through his ear and down his spine, the man in front of him almost choked on his drink. “Oh my. Sansa. You look-“

“Nice. Yes.” Jon nodded at him and grabbed Sansa’s arm. “Happy holidays.” He said curtly and pulled Sansa away from the man before he could attempt at spewing some charming line. He really couldn’t stomach it at the moment. 8 beers and 2 whiskeys deep. Jon would be lying if he claimed to be entirely sober as he looked into the red beauty’s eyes.

“You promised me a dance.” Sansa said breathlessly.

“I did no such thing.” Jon downed the straight whiskey he had been babysitting. 8 beers and 3 whiskeys and Sansa Stark. Jon was drunk.

Sansa frowned and crossed her arms, “Fine.” 

“Sansa.” Jon couldn’t stop himself. Her name flew from his lips before he could think about what would happen afterwards. What did he want to say? What did he want?

She bit her lip and her eyes flashed with that same look she had given him last night. Jon fought the urge to run and just stared at this beauty. What was she going to do next? What was she going to say? She was such a mystery and yet all he thought about. How could he not have her figured out by now?

“Let’s go outside, for a walk. Hmm?” Sansa’s eyes fell to the empty tumbler in his hand and she reached out to gently take it from his grasp. He didn’t fight it and he definitely didn’t fight when she linked arms with him again. Sansa effortlessly escorted him from the giant, elaborate ballroom and out the front doors and into the bitter cold. Neither of them had grabbed their winter jackets and Jon pulled her in close when he felt her begin to shiver.

They didn’t say anything. 

The night was cloudy and unforgivably cold. A sharp bitterness in the air that only hangs around in December. Jon felt his nose going numb as they walked behind the science museum. Cat had been so proud to tell Robb that they had won the bidding war for it over the Lannister Coal Company. He had even overheard Sansa skyping Robb over how annoyed she was that their mother wouldn’t listen to her opinion on tablecloths. 

Their dress shoes clacked on the cement sidewalk in perfect rhythm and Jon focused in on their footsteps and the bass escaping the walls of the building to keep himself grounded. He was drunk, frozen, and had Sansa Stark on his arm.

But then their footsteps were crunchy and his feet felt painfully cold. Jon looked at his feet in the grass and then finally, finally at Sansa Fucking Stark.

Red dress, red hair, blue eyes, and blue lips. Her teeth chattered as she smiled coyly, nothing like the way she had looked at him last night when she yanked off her ex’s t-shirt. 

“Who is Loras?” Jon heard himself ask.

“A boy from school that doesn’t matter.” Sansa shrugged, gently letting his arm out of her’s to begin holding herself. Her tiny arms wrapped around as if she were giving herself a hug. Jon gulped.

“It’s cold.” His breath showed as he spoke and he looked above them to the lights scattered about the back of the museum. It was a dead garden that he remembered taking field trips to as a child. The fountains were turned off and the only things in full bloom were the holly bushes. 

Sansa nodded quickly, tightened her grip on herself, and clenched her jaw to try to silence her chattering teeth.

_Jon shouldn’t be here._

Jon shouldn’t be here, or in her room, or watching her get fucked on a counter. He should be inside doing the Macarena with the family and betting Theon he couldn’t get a girl to make out with him in the coat check closet.

Jon should not be wrapping his arms around Sansa, he should not be pulling her against his chest, and he should definitely, definitely, not relish in the way her body was pressed to his. Sansa shook from the winter cold and pushed her head against him even further, burrowing herself in his hold. Jon leaned in and sniffed at her lavender vanilla and _god fucking dammit_ , he should not be here.

He grabbed her jaw and jerked her face up to look at him. Her eyes danced with a dare and his final thought was, fuck it. His lips slammed into her's clumsily and sloppily and just so fucking right. It was all in perfect time. She was so cold and he was so fucking hot. His cock already hard despite the chill but he kept his hands on her face as she turned her head to deepen the kiss. 

Sansa’s lips went soft, he slipped his tongue in, and damn if she didn’t taste like peppermint. She moaned from the back of her throat and Jon couldn’t handle it. Could not control himself. Her arms snaked around his body, holding him close and still to her. Jon let his right hand fall from her face to grab a fistful of her hair. 

He ripped his lips apart from hers and stared down at her. Wanting and stunned and then looked to the wall just a few steps behind her. Wordlessly he smashed his lips to hers once more and gently lead her to the stone wall of the building.

She yelped when her bare back made contact with the museum and Jon used the break to begin kissing her neck and feeling her ass through this dress that had teased him all night. “You’re drunk.” She hissed and Jon jerked up from trailing kisses on the apples of her breasts, “You don't care.” 

He pulled at the front of her dress, causing her pale tits to bounce and nipples to harden when meeting the cold air. Sansa yelped once more when he ducked down to take them into his mouth and hand respectively. Sucking and teasing this Christmas gift. Jon smiled to himself and looked above him to watch Sansa’s head lulled back against the building, her eyes shut, and white teeth biting into her blue lips. 

She was cold and he was a piece of shit.

Jon pulled back and looked at her, his chest heaving and her eyes wide and confused. Did she really want this? Did she really want Jon or was she just bored? 

Jon shook his head as he began drunkenly stumbling backwards. He was plastered and had his best friend’s little sister pushed up against a building in the freezing cold. Sansa stood there shivering, teary, and with her breasts still exposed. Gooseflesh spread over her skin and tinged blue. Jon shut his eyes tight and opened them slowly. She was still there.

“Fuck.”

And he was right back. His arm snaked around her waist and tongue dancing with her’s. Jon reached down and stumbled trying to yank her dress up. Sansa giggled and chattered and slammed her head against the building as his icy hand slid up her warm thigh to her hot core. Jon ran his fingers over her panties and felt her knees go weak as he yanked them to the side. 

“Sansa Stark.” Jon gritted through his teeth into her ear. Her hand enveloped his cock through his pants and he hissed as he roughly plunged his fingers inside her. Sansa stifled a scream by biting into his shoulder and immediately began moaning as his fingers moved expertly inside her warm, wet folds. 

“Please.” She mewled and Jon pumped even faster, out of anger, out of disgust, out of pure fucking want and need. He was going to hell and he wanted to make sure she came first. Jon planted a wet kiss on her lips and fell to his knees. The frost on the grass completely soaking through his dress pants and freezing his legs. But he needed to get his mouth on her. Right this fucking instant. 

Jon pulled the dress up more and let it fall over him, making a tent over his pumping fingers and Sansa’s legs. He kissed them greedily, god he wanted this for so long. How long had he pushed these images out of his mind? How many times had he stroked himself and thought of doing these very acts to Miss Sansa Stark? 

Sansa moaned and shook and shivered. Jon kissed his way up, up, up, and then kissed her bud gently. A stark comparison to the speed at which his two fingers were going inside of her. Jon heard her whimper and completely lost control and just went for it. He pulled his fingers from her and in one swift movement, grabbed her ass and brought her pussy to his face and completely engulfed himself in her. 

So fucking sweet, Sansa Stark. Like candy canes and gum drops. 

“Fuck! Jon!” She cried out weakly. He knew she was close, or at least he guessed she was. It was so fucking cold her legs had been shaking since they had made their way around the corner of the museum. But he felt it, her peak and her movements. Sansa rode his face and grabbed at his head over the fabric of her dress. 

Sansa froze suddenly and then almost collapsed in shivers as she moaned out his name. Jon grinned as he lapped her up, as much as he could. He was safe in the tent of her dress. There was no reality to face, no guilt to mull over. He was just drunk and fucking around with the most beautiful girl at the party. 

Sansa tapped his head urgently, almost panicked. Jon kissed her pussy one last time before pulling her dress over his head and getting back to his feet. Sansa looked at him worriedly, “There’s no more music. The bass from the…the party. Its…” Sansa looked at the light above them and back to him. 

“It’s freezing anyways, let’s get you back inside.” Jon grabbed her dress and pulled it up to cover her once more, then took hold of her hand and hurriedly marched back to the party. 

The cold and the pussy made Jon sober up some, along with his need to get Sansa warm. Sansa's worry was making him anxious though, “It’s fine Sansa. The band probably just left.” He muttered calmly and squeezed her hand.

“No. It’s only 10. Something is not right.” Sansa began pulling him now, quickening their already fast speed until they were running. Running up the steps and pushing through the front doors and crowds. 

The dim lighting was gone and the music silenced. The once festive room was now completely lit and silent, yet full of people. Jon scanned the crowd and saw that everyone had parted like the Red Sea for he and Sansa. He looked down and immediately dropped her hand. Sansa then screamed, “Daddy! Daddy!” And took off.

Jon searched for what she saw, his mind still a little fuzzy and then he saw. Ned Stark laying on the marble floor, his children in a circle around him and his wife clasping onto his hand. Jon shook his head. Once. Twice. Three times. He ran a fierce hand over his beard and then ran to join them.

“What.” Was all he could manage. 

Robb’s teary eyes met his, “A heart attack. Dad had a heart attack.”

_Tuesday, Wednesday heart attack_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok seriously thank you so much for all the love! Let me know what you think of this one.


	3. Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so Jon's parents are kinda loosely based on the rumors from the book series that Ashara was Jon's mom and that Ned had a lil thing for her. Michael is completely made up and based on the rumor about Ashara being assaulted at the Harrenhal. In this fic Michael didn't do that but is just an ass. 
> 
> Also, forgive me but no smut this chapter. Just lots of angst. I will make up for it on Thursday though :)

# Wednesday

**12:38 AM**

Touch and go. That was what the doctor had said an hour ago. That Ned was hanging in there but his body was giving him a fight. Jon sat beside Robb in the swarm of Starks sitting in the waiting room. 

Arya blankly stared at the television, Robb relentlessly tugged and pulled at his beard, Bran went to go get snacks, and Rickon sat with his headphones watching Netflix on the iPad. 

Sansa sat three seats away from him. Jon was on the end seat in the row of 8 chairs lined against the beige wall. It went Jon, Robb, Arya, Sansa, and Rickon. Bran really was taking his sweet time getting those snacks. 

Cat was pacing the halls and making phone calls. Jon did his best to avoid watching her because all it did was strike fear in his heart. What would they do? 

He couldn't let himself think it. 

So he didn't. 

He played sudoku on his phone and listened to the other families chatter as they waited in the very same area. This hospital was ridiculously large and fancy with state of the art equipment and cream of the crop doctors. The nurses had explained to them what was happening but they might as well have been speaking Mandarin. No one could really grasp what was happening. 

It was supposed to be a stupid and fun night. Jon wasn't supposed to be sitting in a hospital avoiding Sansa. If things had gone as originally planned, he'd be drunk and playing Call of Duty with Rickon. Jon would've liked even more for the night to have played out with Sansa. 

What would've happened if she hadn't noticed the music had stopped? 

The sudden realization made him look in her direction. Her head rested on her hand with her hair pulled up in a messy bun low to her head. The marvelous gown she wore was wrinkled and made her look almost childlike in her seat.

Sansa hadn't been drunk. She felt and heard the music stop because she hadn't had anything but a cup of wine with dinner. Sansa knew to be scared when the party went silent and Jon had been too fucking busy being drunk off of booze and her pussy. 

Jon let his face fall to his hands for a moment before raking his fingers through his curls and pulling them back with the elastic around his wrist. Robb made a face, “Nice man bun, douchebag.” 

Jon rolled his eyes and flicked him off, then leaned over to show Arya the obscene finger gesture, “Sansa’s not the only one who gets away with it.”

Arya finally displayed emotion for the first time since Ned fell to the ball room floor. Her green eyes narrowed in play annoyance, “Mom! Mom! Jon’s grounded!” She called out jokingly. Sansa smacked her sister’s shoulder for shouting when families around them had been dozing off and were now shooting daggers at them with their sleepy eyes. 

Catelyn Stark suddenly appeared, her eyes soft and mouth in a firm line, standing above all of her children. A nurse with wild curls smiled warmly at them, “Your dad just got taken up for an EKG. That means they're going to find out where and why and how. More than likely, your dad will have a stent placed in his heart tomorrow. This will help blood flow and keep his heart pumping.” The nurse then looked at Cat, cleared her throat, and smiled once more. A sinking feeling wracked Jon as she opened her mouth, “Your dad will more than likely need open heart surgery. They almost lost him on the ride over here.” 

“Your father is fine. He is going to be fine. What everyone needs is for all of you to go home and wash up. Get some sleep and come back here in the morning.” Cat stepped in, taking over for the sympathetic nurse. 

“Sansa, get Rickon to hockey practice in the morning and Arya I still want the laundry done. Robb, see what you can do about the garbage disposal and make appointments for dental check ups. Where's Bran?” Her wide blue eyes scanned her kids one by one before looking around for the missing son. 

“Here.” Bran moved quietly from behind the nurse, clearly hearing the whole conversation and unsure of what was to come. Jon tried to smile at him but knew it was weak when Bran looked away quickly back to his mom. 

“Bran, clean your room. For the last time, clean your damn room.” She sounded so exhausted and Bran nodded erratically, all the assorted chips stacked in his arms. He hugged them tightly to himself. “Ok! Get going! Goodnight and I love you all. No one comes back here until 9:00 or unless I call, got it?” Catelyn motioned for everyone to rise and they all obliged. Everyone filed in a line to thank the nurse and kiss their mother goodbye.

When it was Jon’s turn, Cat grabbed his forearm with a death grip, causing him to flinch. She looked at him desperately and Jon knew. 

“Call your father Jon.” She said before pulling him in for a tight hug and just as quickly patting him on the back to dismiss him. Jon felt stunned. A heap of horror settled in his heart as she watched Cat follow the nurse back to the hallways of the hospital. 

The kids hadn't even been allowed to see Ned since his arrival here. Jon swallowed harshly and turned to follow after his friends. After Sansa.

**2:43 AM**

It was pitch black in the basement at night. Freezing, dark, and eerily quiet. Jon hadn't really ever noticed it before. He slept soundly at this place and always had. But tonight he stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind numb from the conversation with his father. 

He almost hadn't put his number in his contacts when he got his new phone a few months ago. Michael barely had anything to do with Jon’s life. He placed a roof over his head while he grew up and did little else. Jon didn't talk about it to anyone ever because it was a boring sob story that frankly wasn’t anybody’s business. Robb knew about it all, along with Ned and Catelyn. Who probably knew even more than he did. 

His mother, Ashara, passed when he was young enough to not remember anything. Michael never spoke about her and Jon never asked. Occasionally, Ned would make a comment about her being proud but Jon did his best to not fully register it. What did it matter anyways if she was dead in the ground? 

Ned had been a constant in Jon’s life, immediately keeping an eye on him when he saw Michael dwindling after his mother’s suicide. Jon went back and forth. Sleep in Robb’s bed one night, then back to his dad’s house the next night. He came and went from both establishments without asking or telling anyone. Michael didn't care and Ned didn't ask questions. 

He owed the Starks so much and here he sat, staring at their ceiling, and just as drunk as he had been at the party and thinking about their daughter. Jon had to down some rum before calling his father. Michael had been MIA for two years. Other than a belated birthday card that was mailed to his own house because it slipped his mind that his son was still in school.

A creaky footstep from the staircase down to his makeshift bedroom drew him from his thoughts. Jon didn't have to ask to know who it was. 

Suddenly there she was, standing at the foot of his bed. Breathing heavily and sniffling her nose. Jon couldn't see a thing but still, he knew. 

She slowly crawled up his bed before sinking next to him. He made no move to touch her even as her body warmth tempted him to. She lay there; mere inches from him, staring at the very same ceiling he was. Jon moved to turn on his lamp, but felt her warm hand on his forearm, stopping him. Jon slowly laid back to being inches from her. 

“Do you think he's going to die?” Sansa’s voice shook. 

Jon blinked and searched for words, but couldn't find any. So he just silently shook his head. 

“How's your dad?” Sansa asked so quickly he knew she had come down here with the intention of asking. 

Jon shrugged. 

The Starks never talked about Michael. 

“Would you care if he had a heart attack?” Sansa whispered.

Jon snapped his head to look at her. And even though he could only make out her outline, he knew she was looking back at him. “I…I don't really know.” And with that he went back to staring at the ceiling. 

“What happened?” Sansa’s stubbornness leaked through her question. She was going to make him talk. 

“He's a piece of shit. Always has been and always will be.” Jon explained simply. 

“Is he going to see Daddy?” 

“Who knows. I wouldn't be surprised either way.” Jon crossed his arms over his chest and felt his arm brush against Sansa’s. Her breath audibly caught but she tried to cover it with a cough. “Why are you down here? To ask about my dad?” 

“I'm down here because you were the last person I was with before it happened. I thought maybe if…maybe…” She trailed off before sitting up suddenly. “It was stupid. I'm going to bed.” 

Jon opened his mouth and closed it, fighting to find words once more. Did he want her to stay? Did she actually even want to be here or was she just asking for an update about his Dad for her mom? 

“Stay.” Jon said when he felt her weight leave his bed. “Sansa.” 

“Tell me.” Sansa didn't get back on his bed. 

“Tell you what?” 

“Why you called your dad.” He could just hear her crossing her arms. Jon bit his tongue to keep from saying some asshole remark, keeping the rum’s attitude at bay.

“How do you know?” 

“Robb said something and I sort of, well, I’ve kind of been…” She trailed off and Jon lost it. He flipped over to turn on the lamp, illuminating the room in a burst of brightness. Sansa jumped slightly and looked at him in shock.

“What? Spied on me? Listened in?” Jon was still sitting on his bed and he tilted his head to intimidate her. He was pissed and for whatever reason he wanted to make her just as angry. “How long were you sitting on the staircase?”

Anything to keep from having this conversation. 

“You don't scare me.” Her lip quivered, telling him otherwise. 

“I should.” Jon looked at his feet. Guilt creeped in immediately and he changed his mind, he didn't want to hurt her. He just wanted her to leave him alone. Get out of his room and out of his head. 

“What happened? Why does nobody talk about it? Why did Robb say he'd be here?” Sansa’s eyes were as red as her hair and wet and glassy and Jon’s vision went blurry. His eyes were just as teary as her’s but he worked to blink them away. 

“My mom died and my dad lost it. Your dad had been best friends with mine and they were in business together. My dad sold all his shares in an attempt to screw your dad for loving my mom.” Jon cleared his throat, his voice was wavering and he was fighting to keep composure, “Robb has always been my best friend and your parents have never, ever given up on me or doubted me. I owe your family everything and I…I…” Jon looked up at Sansa’s shocked face. 

She sat back on the bed, looking at him still, with those pool blue eyes. Begging him to go further. 

“Michael tried to give me up for adoption to your family and my dad wouldn't let him. But here I am anyways.” Jon stared at her as hot tears spilt, “Your dad is my dad.” 

Sansa’s arms flew around him and she mumbled her realization in his hair, “If he goes he wants you to be left with something. He wants to adopt you.” 

Jon pushed his head in her shoulder and wept. Ugly sobs and tears leaked all over her oversized t-shirt she had stolen from Loras.

**8:00 AM**

“Jon, wake up.” Sansa’s soft voice eased him from his dreamless sleep. He lifted his head from her chest slowly, piecing together the night in his sleepy haze. Michael. Crying. Sleeping with Sansa. 

Jon shot up to take in his surroundings. They were both clothed and the bed was unmade. Jon looked at her almost confused, “Did you sleep?” 

“A little. Probably an hour or two.” Sansa shrugged and straightened up her shirt. Her face was pale and speckled with tears and her eyes looked heavy with sleep and fear. Jon apologized and she just shook her head dismissively, “Don't worry about it.” 

“I'm worried about you.” It slipped out of his mouth before he could even stop it. 

Why did this always happen with her. He had no fucking control.

She got up off his bed, “Me too.” 

Jon wasn't sure if she meant worried about him or herself but before he could ask, she was scurrying back up the stairs.

**2:08 PM**

The nurse was right, Ned was having an emergency stent surgery in the next few hours and had been conscious and excited to see his kids for the first time since being shoved up in an ambulance. 

Everyone was excited and joyful. Joking around and sharing snacks and counting how many times Arya got in trouble for curse words. Even Catelyn was in good spirits, laughing beside her husband as she sat beside his feet. 

Ned was pale and uncomfortable. And for the first time Jon really noticed just how old he looked. His gray hair completely matted to his head and his frame small and wirey underneath his hospital gown. Ned looked at his kids with careful eyes and it didn't slip past Jon or Sansa. 

Maybe it was because Sansa finally knew the truth or maybe it was because she had always been keen on these type of things. Sansa was good at being nosy and picking up on cues. 

“Alright, Rickon’s practice is almost over and Bran has got to clean his room, Arya has laundry to do. Robb you help her!” Catelyn listed off, “You all can come back tonight but bed time is 11.” 

“When will you be home?” Bran was annoyed at being bossed around. 

“I’m staying the night again.” 

“How come you-“ Bran started but Ned’s glare silenced him. “All of you listen to your mother. I don't care if you're 40 or 14, when your mother sets a bedtime you listen. If she tells you to do something, you do it. Got it?” 

Jon looked at the two Stark parents on the hospital bed and the sadness from the past 24 hours overwhelmed him once more. “Do you need anything?” 

“Stay here. Everyone else, out.” Catelyn ordered. Robb gave Jon a flustered look but listened to his mother. Rickon, Bran, and Arya all shot him the same look before following after their oldest brother. Sansa avoided eye contact all together as she pushed through the door. They both knew what was about to be said. 

Once all the kids filed out, Jon finally let his eyes meet Ned’s. 

“You called your father?” Ned asked even though he already knew the answer. Jon nodded solemnly and looked at Catelyn. She gave a tight lipped smile, “Where is he?” 

“Didn't ask.” Jon looked at his hands. He didn't know why he didn't ask. 

“Is he coming?” Cat asked. 

“Is anyone dying?” Jon looked at Ned. 

Silence fell over the room. Only the sounds of machinery filled Jon’s ears and he watched Ned shift in his bed. “I’ll be honest. I'm not doing too hot. But I’m not at death’s door. I’m on the…same street.” 

Jon swallowed the lump in his throat and rose from the seat that he had been hanging in all day long. His post as he watched the Starks flutter around like crazy. No wonder Ned was so exhausted. 

“No ones dying.” Jon insisted. “You can't.” 

“I will. If not now then some day.” Ned said with such certainty that Jon fought the urge to leave the room. “When I go, I want you to be safe.” 

“I am safe. I’m a grown man Ned.” Jon insisted. What he wanted to say was don't leave me, you aren't allowed to do that. 

“You are.” Ned smiled, “You are my son. Not by blood but by choice and I need to protect you if things go south with this heart of mine. I want your loans paid off.” 

Jon’s eyebrows rose. 

When he applied to college 6 years ago, it had been the only time that Michael had ever had enough care to argue. Jon would not take loans out in his own or Ned’s name. 

Michael had money and Jon had been a charity case long enough and wanted to provide for his son’s future. Jon had been foolish enough to believe his dad and when Ned pressed the issue, fought with one of the only people who had his back. 

“Michael will let me adopt you if you only ask.” Ned cleared his throat, “It'll be tough but I need you to do that for me. I need you to let me do it.” 

“Michael won't hear it.” Jon shook his head. “I chose to get my masters a go back. I can't have you pay for that.” 

“You will need help and I want to give it to you even if I'm not here physically.” Ned looked at Catelyn. 

“You don’t need to adopt me to do that.” Jon looked down at his feet and then back to his surrogate parents.

“Yes we do.” Cat smiled. 

“That way you are officially family and can be debt free if you ever decide to be Sansa.” Ned crossed his arms.

Jon almost fell over, his knees went to jell-o. “What?” He attempted to play it cool. 

Cat rolled her eyes and Ned let out a burst of laughter. “It's clear as day how you feel for our daughter. You two have been staring at each other for the past year.” 

“We will support you always Jon. You're a good boy,” Cat sighed, “A good man.” 

“Get Michael here.” Ned said finally. 

_Jesus Christ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for the love. I appreciate every one who takes the time to comment and give kudos.


	4. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I suck and I took so long! I couldn't figure out how to start, where I wanted to go, or what I wanted to say. I was completely lost. It took me 5 re-writes and I hope you guys like this one :)

  
_Thursday never looking back_  


# Thursday

“Brother.” Robb clapped Jon on the back after pulling back from the big bear hug he had just enveloped him in. Their first family dinner since Tuesday had just started wrapping up, and they had all picked at different helpings from various sympathy casseroles. It was around 9:30 now but with it being winter break and all the hospital visits, the days and time all blurred together in a mushy gray pool.

Arya had hogged all the chocolate strawberries from the Edible Arrangement, and Rickon was decidedly way angrier with her for that than surprised that Jon was his now legal brother.

“You are such a bitch!” Rickon shoved his chair in while Arya licked her fingers. “Snooze you lose!” 

“So…are you like moving back here, or?” Bran looked up from his phone, his glasses sliding from his nose. Jon smiled at him, “No. It’s just for legal stuff and school.” 

“Cool.” Arya shot up from the table and flicked Rickon off before crashing into Jon, hugging him tightly. “Was your dad mean?” 

Jon wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her until she yelped. “Yeah.” 

“But you're a Stark now.” Sansa’s voice came from the table. Her face was unreadable from over Arya’s head. Jon let her go and smiled at Sansa. “Yes.” 

“Are you changing your last name?” Bran got up from the table, shoving away his fourth helping of lasagna. 

Jon shook his head and looked at Robb, who was practically beaming. “It's cool that you're official now. Heck, Mom and Dad should've done this back when we were like 5. Sure would've saved at lot of time.” 

Jon hummed an uncomfortable agreement; he wanted to shoot down that conversation before the Stark kids began asking too many questions. 

Michael was an untouchable subject. Ned had made that perfectly clear when his dad had crashed Jon’s 8th birthday party and puked all over the ice rink. 

Robb knew bits and pieces of what little Jon had felt like sharing over the years. But he didn't like to dwell on it. Michael was a piece of shit and it took Jon 8 years to realize it and then 4 more to come to terms with it. It wasn't until he was 12 that he really understood and accepted that he could never expect anything from his biological dad. 

Thankfully Michael’s first home was only down the road from the Stark’s, so as a kid he just rode his bike back and forth. As a teenager, he'd pick and choose when he felt like crashing in his dad’s empty home or on Robb’s futon. Michael ran a travel agency so he himself could also travel. He had homes all over the globe, but there was only one Jon was sort of welcome in. Jon never understood why his Dad kept him or if Ned really did love his mother. 

All Jon knew was that he never felt unwelcome here. 

“Cool.” Sansa said icily, then slid past everyone to toss her plate in the sink. Jon exchanged looks with Robb and then Arya let out a sigh, “She's just upset because you're one more sibling in the family who can drive, and mom will probably still only make her take Rickon to his stupid hockey practices.” 

“Fuck you Arya!” Rickon scowled and stormed off to follow after his sister. “Welcome to this _stupid_ family, Jon!” He called from down the hallway. 

“Congratulations!” Bran sarcastically cheered before cleaning up his area. Robb shook his head and stretched, “I'm fucking beat. I haven't slept in forever. I think I'm gunna go crash before I crunch out this paper. Teachers who assign homework over breaks have a special level in hell.” 

“Shit! I have a PowerPoint due for my winter class tomorrow!” Arya sprinted after her siblings to head up to her own room, Bran followed behind, and Robb shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m glad you're here man.” Robb shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, “You know, you've always been a part of this family. Even before…” 

“Yeah man. I know. Thanks.” Jon stared down the hallway that everyone had disappeared down and thought about what Sansa was doing.

But what else was new. 

“I'm glad Dad is doing better. The nurse told mom that she thinks the surgery is gunna go fine tomorrow. He's been doing really well.” Robb tossed his own plate in the sink and changed the subject. The two of them never had to actually use words to know how the other felt. Robb always knew what Jon meant by his silence and Jon always knew what Robb’s rambling words didn't say.

Robb was scared and he was glad Jon was his best friend. 

Jon's eyes still stared down the hallway as he nodded appreciatively. Ned hadn't said anything about his surgery tomorrow when they all were visiting earlier. He'd even told Jon that they never had to tell anyone that he was officially theirs. He knew how much Jon would hate the attention. 

But during dinner when he watched Sansa solemnly shoving cheeseburger casserole around her plate, he really just wanted to say something good. To share his news and focus on something other than Ned’s heart and Catelyn’s absence during the holiday season.

“Do you love her?” Robb’s voice pulled Jon from his thoughts; he snapped his attention to Robb’s arms crossed. 

“Who? What?” 

Robb rolled his eyes and popped a chocolate covered strawberry he had somehow miraculously hidden from both Arya and Rickon into his mouth. He nodded down the same hallway Jon had been staring down. “Sansa. Do you love Sansa?” Robb said it so slowly that Jon couldn't claim to not understand what he meant.

_Did he love her?_

“Robb.” Was all Jon could muster. 

“I'm not mad. I just saw the way you watch her and I just don't want you to sneak around. If you love her, you love her. Don't waste time lying about it is all.” Robb licked the chocolate from his lips and clasped Jon’s shoulder in an affectionate squeeze, “If there's one thing we should take away from all this, it's never waste time.” Robb clapped him on the back a bit too hard and waved his hand around the kitchen. 

“Since you’re an official Stark and all, could you put away all the food that our siblings and I are too shitty to do ourselves?” Robb shot corny finger guns and winked when Jon rolled his eyes and made a face. 

Jon would frankly rather die than clean up the kitchen, but he knew Robb was swallowing his pride and anger to be a good friend about the whole Sansa thing. This was Robb’s form of getting back at him for having a thing for his little sister and it was a whole hell of a lot better than the punch to the face he had been expecting. What he thought he deserved.

Jon grabbed up the plates in the sink and began rinsing them; thinking about how Ned said it'd been obvious. Did Robb know that Sansa had spent the last two nights by his side? That they had stared up at the same ceiling in the same petrified silence. Because all day long it was easy to go about the motions and do what needed to be done, but in the dark and quiet of night, was when the reality of it all was all too real. Both of them were haunted and gutted with the thought of Ned actually leaving this earth. 

Jon loaded the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters and thought about Sansa’s question Tuesday night: if Michael had had a heart attack, would Jon have cared? 

The answer had been no and was still no and Sansa had been pissed all day that he'd so easily forget his own father. 

Jon didn't feel the need to explain himself but he did feel bad about making Sansa so upset. He cared what she thought, hell, he cared about her. 

Did that mean he _loved_ her? 

He gently reapplied the foil and Saran Wrap to all the opened dishes, wiped down the messes, and even found another chocolate strawberry that had fallen from its skewer. Jon snickered as he popped it in his mouth and started to put away the dishes into the oversized fridge.

Jon looked at the empty kitchen and he felt his hands twitch. It was late and everyone was in bed but the very last place that he wanted to go was to his lonely bed. So he pulled his phone from his pocket to play some music, grabbed cleaning supplies from underneath the sink, and began to scrub the Stark’s granite counter top.

Fuck. _His_ granite countertop. 

He was 26 and this was his home and this was his family. Jon's heart swelled when the Charlie Brown Christmas theme played from his phone. This was Ned’s favorite Christmas movie. 

Jon was searching for the dustpan when he heard a small gasp. He jerked his head to see Sansa standing at the opening of the hallway she had disappeared from moments ago. 

Or how long had it been? 

Jon’s eyes flitted to the clock above the oven. Shit. He'd been cleaning for about two hours. 

“Jon?” A voice so small he could have excused it for the wind came from her slightly parted mouth. Her hair was messy, remnants of black mascara smeared slightly beneath her icy eyes, and her lower lip was pulled between her teeth. She bit her lip and all of Jon’s blood rushed. 

Jon leaned the broom against the bright yellow kitchen wall and stared at her. She looked so tired and worn. For the first time really, Jon noticed how mature she looked. Sansa took a step further into the kitchen, donning only the stupid fucking Loras Tyrell baseball t-shirt.

Sansa glared at him, “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Jon glared right back at her shirt and then to her rage filled eyes, she tilted her head in response. Sansa bit her lower lip again and God, Jon wanted to just grab her pretty fucking face.

“Cleaning.” Jon shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt rather fearless at the moment. 

“Go to bed, why don't you?” Sansa turned to go back from where she came. Daring him to challenge her. To fight her. To…go to her bed? Jon tilted his own head in response. “Which bed?” 

Sansa spun quickly on her heel and scowled when his vision dropped to her shirt once more, “Yours!” 

Jon took a taunting step closer to her, watching her with his dark eyes. She almost cowered from him but she didn’t move. Sansa didn’t run, or shove him away. Sansa just stood there, as he took deliberate steps closer, and closer, and closer.

He was inches from her, she was easily within reach but he forced himself to stop. They stared at each other for a moment, their breaths ragged and out of sync, with their hands forced by their sides. 

Sansa opened her mouth to speak and Jon couldn’t take it.

Jon grabbed her face and kissed her, with all the doubt, with all the anger, with everything he felt for Sansa Stark. He wanted to make her feel what he felt and not have words ruin the moment. But she shoved him away, stunned; her hands flew to cover her mouth.

“Wh-what are you doing!” Sansa stammered.

“Robb asked me if I love you.” Jon gently placed his hands back on her face and she didn’t even flinch.

Sansa visibly froze, color draining from her face. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Robb asked me if I loved you. He told me if I did then I shouldn't waste time.” Jon let his hands fall from her face and watched her swallow air a few times.

“Do you?” She raised her eyes to meet his, and he smiled once more. “Do you?” Jon forced himself to step away from her. 

“Jon! What!” Sansa crossed her arms, “You walk around shirtless all the time, you used to help me with my calc homework, and you taught me how to ride a bike! Jon, I think I’ve loved you since I was 10.” 

“And you told Robb?” Jon grabbed her chin with his right hand, fear shone through her bright blue eyes. She swatted at him but his hand remained. Jon wanted to stare into Sansa Stark’s eyes when she told him that she told her older brother she loved his best friend. 

“He knew!” Sansa swatted his hand again, flinching under his intense stare, “Jon! Stop it!” 

He released her and she took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself. “And now you're my _brother_.” Sansa spat the word out as if it were poison, causing Jon to flinch. “You sit at dinner and tell us about how you disowned your own dad to join my family. You sit there and laugh when Robb calls you brother as if…as if your face wasn't between my legs two nights ago.” 

“It was.” Jon nodded in agreement and took a step towards her once more. Sansa either wasn’t catching on or didn’t care because all she did was stare at him in disbelief. 

“So…” Sansa searched for words before furrowing her brow, “So fuck you! Fuck you Jon Snow for coming home for winter break and for being here and for-“ 

“For licking your wet pussy until you came for me.” Jon finished for her. Sansa gasped at his boldness and gave him a shove, “Don't talk to me like that!” 

“Why? Does it make you wet?” 

Sansa narrowed her eyes, “Because you're my _brother_.” 

“Oh Sansa.” Jon grinned at her, as he looked her up and down. Her pale snowy legs were long and stretched past the shirt, her nipples hard through the thin fabric. Sansa flinched when Jon reached out and grabbed her chin again, pulling her to him. She gasped when he cupped her ass and gave it a tight squeeze, staring darkly into her eyes.

Sansa panted as he rubbed her folds from over her panties, and held her breath as he pushed the fabric aside. “Would a brother do, _this?_ ” He shoved a finger inside of her slick folds for emphasis. She moaned and closed her eyes, resting her forehead to his shoulder. 

Jon smirked and wrapped his other arm around the small of her back, his one finger teasing her. Sansa squeezed her eyes so tight that Jon could feel it through his shirt. Jon added a finger just to hear her gasp like he knew she would.  
“Tell me to stop Sansa.” Jon practically begged her; there was no going back after this. Jon didn’t want to stop, or maybe he did, but he wanted Sansa to make the call. Is this it? Is this what they want? Are they going to take this leap?

_“Do you love her?”_ Robb’s question echoed in his mind as he pumped his fingers faster inside of her, circling, teasing, and Sansa snapped her head up to look him in the eyes again. “Tell me to stop so I don't bend you over your counter right now.”

Sansa’s eyes clouded over, “ _Our_ counter. _Brother_.”

Jon pulled his fingers from her so swiftly, Sansa almost fell over. Jon’s chest was heaving and his mind was racing, was she pissed? Did she want him to stop? His hand fell to his side and Sansa immediately got on her knees, pulling at his pant’s button in haste. “ _Sansa_.” He hissed through clenched teeth. Sansa grinned darkly at him and yanked his pants and boxers down in one fowl swoop. His stiff cock bounced right before her pretty little face. Sansa grabbed him and planted a gentle kiss at the tip. Jon shivered when she said his very same words back to him, except slower. Teasingly she ran her tongue underneath his shaft and smiled, “Tell me to stop _Jon_.”

Jon stared down at her, his best friend’s little sister with her hands around his cock, on her knees, in the family kitchen and a deep throaty growl escaped his mouth. His hands went to her hair as he urged her to take him in her mouth. But she just continued lightly kissing and licking his tip. “Fucking hell Sansa.”

And she took him whole. Jon stumbled back a bit at the shock but caught his balance by placing a hand on the counter, the other threaded through her fiery locks, guiding her head up and down. Sansa moaned and gagged and Jon just about fucking lost it. He clenched his teeth so hard he was almost scared they'd fall out.

Sansa’s blue eyes peered up to him and Jon thrusted into her mouth just to watch them widen and water. A tear escaped but she never looked away, she matched his pace as he began to fuck her mouth. Jon felt the warmth begin to pool in his lower abdomen and closed his eyes at the pleasure of Sansa’s sweet mouth sucking. Jon's hand tightened in her hair, his mouth slack, and his eyes squeezed tight.

Sansa pulled his cock out of her mouth with a loud “pop” noise and smirked up at him.

“Sansa!” Jon stumbled again and glared at her, “What the fuck?!”

“Take me downstairs.” Sansa pulled his pants up with her as she stood.

Jon stared after her in shock, his pants still unbuttoned, and standing in the middle of the kitchen. Christmas carols still played from his phone and the aroma of the cleaning supplies invaded his nose. Sansa stood in the opposite doorway from the one she had entered from. She waved her hand slowly, urging him to follow her to his basement bedroom.

“Come on, Jon Stark.” Sansa winked and Jon lunged at her, winding his arms tightly around her middle. Sansa squealed in a fit of laughter and Jon lifted her up in a quick motion before placing her down again. “Let’s go pretty girl.”

Sansa grabbed his hand as he opened his bedroom door. 

There was no turning back.


	5. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY.

# Friday

**12:03 AM**

Jon’s teeth clamped down to slowly and harshly drag across Sansa’s pale throat. Her breath caught as his tongue lashed at the marked flesh, moaning as he tugged at the ends of her hair. He pushed her up against the wall, a bit too harshly, as a memory of eight year Sansa flashed through his mind. She called him Robb’s shadow and attempted to teach Bran to do the same.

Sansa’s eyes flashed darkly, her pink tongue running along her swollen lips. Jon grabbed her face with his hand and stared down at her, Sansa’s small frame pressed against the wall. “Is this what you want? Is this what you wanted when you wore nothing but that t-shirt all break?” His hand that was tangled in her hair reached down to cup her ass tightly, “Practically begging for me to grab your perfect little ass.”

Sansa lifted her head up, her eyes shut tight. Jon let his grip on her face go and grabbed her arms above her head, then yanked up Loras Tyrell’s t-shirt up to see her perky, pink tits bounce and pebble in the chill of his basement bedroom. Jon grinned darkly at her, his mind racing with everything he wanted to do to her, all the ways he wanted to make her his.

Sansa grabbed his face with both her hands, blue eyes misty with wonder and loss. The moment dropped. A weight of reality pulled them back, and Jon grabbed up Sansa’s topless form close to him as she threw herself to him. Her feet gave way, completely falling into his warm embrace. Jon’s guilt was fleeting and placed a hard kiss on the top of her fire locks.

They stayed like that for a while. Tangled so tight it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Jon breathed in her scent and thought about Robb’s question.

Sansa pulled back, looking up at him once more, “I want you to make everything better. Make me better Jon.” Her voice was so small, cracking and damning. Jon pushed her hair back gently with one hand, tucking it behind her ear before cupping her face. “Okay.” Was all he could find himself saying. His voice a feather on her lips before planting a deep, searching kiss. Jon drank Sansa in like a desert in heat.

Jon gathered her up, and Sansa coiled her legs tight around his middle, her hands knotting through his mess of hair as they kissed one another. Jon fell back on his bed, clutching her to him as they made their landing. Their lips never leaving each other as they yanked and pulled off what clothing was left between them. Jon grabbed her face with both hands and forced himself to pull away, to really look at the girl before him.

“Sansa,” Jon sighed before she leaned in for another kiss, “Sansa.”

Her eyes bore into his, and he knew the answer. Everything clicked when her sly smile crawled back across her face, a blush rising to her cheek, Jon loved her. Robb knew it, Ned and Cat knew it, and hell; even Sansa knew. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and looked at him knowingly. And Jon loved her for it. Sansa wasn't going to poke or pry or beg, she was going to love him anyways.

Jon rolled over to be on top, his hands on either side of her lovely face. Sansa’s eyes darkened as she peered up at him, her delicate hand cupping his face and pulling him in for another kiss.

Jon kissed gently along her jaw down the white column of her throat, eliciting a moan and giggle from Sansa as his scruff tickled at the delicate skin. Jon drew a sharp breath, “You've always loved me?”

“Jon.” Sansa’s voice was soft and sweet and he wanted all of her. He pushed himself inside without a warning, Sansa let out a small cry before clawing at his back. “Jon.”

He unraveled. 

Jon gripped tightly to her hips as he slammed himself inside of her, relishing in the sight of her tits bouncing and blue eyes rolling up. He grunted as she repeated his name musically, loud and light and perfectly Sansa. 

Her delicate neck craned as she pulled herself up to rest on her elbows and press her forehead to his. It was so intimate, so gentle, Jon found himself slowing down even though every muscule in his body begged him not to. He wanted to pound Sansa Stark until she screamed but more than anything, he realized, he wanted to love her.

He loved her master calendar, purple shoestrings, and the way her eyebrows knitted together when she tasted something she didn’t like. 

Sansa leaned up to kiss him, closing her eyes and chanting curses. 

She was his.

**12:03 PM**

Sansa clutched Jon’s hand so tight, the feeling almost left. He pulled her hand up to gently kiss it and give her a soft smile. They’d been watching Full House re-runs all morning with the Stark kids. Ned went into surgery at 7:00. 

“Do you guys want a beer?” Theon hung in the doorway of the living room, his blond hair tousled and deep purple bags rested beneath his eyes. He had just gotten home from visiting family for the holidays and insisted on hanging around with everyone for the day. 

“No, Theon. No one wants a fucking beer at noon.” Arya rolled her eyes and went back to furiously checking her twitter feed. 

“Yeah man, I’ll take one.” Robb solemnly nodded and looked to Jon, and then to his grip on his sister’s hand. He shifted in his seat in his father’s La-Z-Boy and gave Jon a small smile before looking back to the TV.

“No thanks.” Sansa shook her head and pulled Jon’s hand into her lap. “Yes please.” Jon sighed. 

This day was going to be an eternity. 

“Are you two dating?” Rickon sneered from the floor in front of Arya. 

Jon’s jaw went slack as everyone turned their heads to the pair seated on the oversized love seat. Sansa snickered and shrugged, “Shut up.”

“Is that why Sansa came up from the basement this morning?” Bran’s head tilted slightly and Jon flicked him off. Bran and Robb laughed for the first time since the party and even threw their heads back. Bran shook his head and settled back to watching the Tanner family dance in their living room.

“Cool.” Arya barely looked up from her phone and began to chew at her thumbnail.

And that was it. 

Jon squeezed Sansa’s hand and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“You guys are gross!” Rickon nagged and then proceeded to laugh so loudly it rubbed off on everybody else. The delusion and heartbreak of this week, the lack of sleep and amount of tears, all finally catching up. Everyone laughed and laughed and laughed some more. Theon passed the beers to Robb and Jon as he even joined in. 

“Thanks for making everything ok.” Sansa whispered so quietly to Jon he could’ve almost imagined it.

**6:00 PM**

The hospital was bleached and dim, doctors and nurses weaved frantically through the halls and waiting room. The Stark children had all been waiting around for about a half hour, Arya had started up a game of go fish with Rickon and Robb.

Cat sat next to Sansa and they scanned Amazon together on her cell phone, picking out what they should get for different cousins for Christmas. 

The very same nurse from Tuesday smiled as she walked up to them, “Hey guys!” She threw her hand up in a small greeting, “I see you’re finally eating! Proud of you!” She winked as she teased Cat who had been eating up a bag of Doritos.

“Oh yeah, meal of champions.” Cat popped another chip in her mouth and Jon snorted. 

The nurse laughed and giddily smiled, “Eddard Stark is on the mend!” 

Everyone jumped up, the playing cards flew through the air and fell almost like giant, sharp confetti, one knocking into Rickon’s eye. But no one cared. Jon felt weightless as he clutched to Robb, squeezing him tightly as tears of joy and relief coursed down their stubbled cheeks.

“He’s ok! He’s ok! Thank God!” Everyone chanted as they embraced one another.

Jon pulled away from his hug with Arya and looked at Sansa’s tear stained, smiling face and an embarrassing, choked sob escaped him when their eyes met. Sansa threw herself at him once more, her hands tangling and clutching at his hair. Jon pushed his chin into her shoulder and pulled her closer as her small, happy cries sounded in his ear.

“Oh Jon.” Sansa looked into his face and then hugged him once more.

“Get a room!” Arya slapped Jon on the back and everyone laughed once more.

**10:00 PM**

Sansa lay beside Jon for the 4th time this week, her left leg casually draped over his right as she popped Hershey Kiss in her mouth. Jon looked over at her watching Grey’s Anatomy on her laptop and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. 

Sansa grinned at him, her hair tied up, glasses on, and now in his own black t-shirt.

Jon put his book down on his nightstand and grabbed her up, Sansa squealing and laughing all the while. “Come here!”

“Jon!” 

He peppered kisses all up and down her and all over her flailing body. “Jon!” She screamed.

“Get off! Get off! Mercy!” Sansa shoved off him and fell beside him in a heap of laughter and exhaustion. “You are so annoying!” She smacked his arm and playfully scowled at him. 

Jon’s heart soared, a giant grin spreading across his face, “I like that shirt on you.”

“You do?” Sansa looked down at it and back to him, “I was thinking about getting that old baseball one…” She stuck her tongue out and Jon growled, reaching over and tickling her once more.

“I threw it out! Fuck the baseball shirt!” Jon yelled over Sansa’s giggles and she echoed his shouts, “Fuck the baseball shirt!”

He paused to lean down and kiss her laughing face, “Sansa Stark,”

“Jon Snow!” Sansa mocked his pout and he let out a chuckle. She bit her lip to hold back a proud smile.

“You’ve loved me always?” Jon asked breathlessly.

“It’s Friday, I’M IN LOVE!” Sansa threw her arms up and pushed him off of her. 

“Your own brother.” Jon made a face at her and she shoved him playfully, “I hate you!” Sansa smiled up at him so big he kissed her once more.

Jon laughed and rolled off of her, his girl from the start. His girl forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I do a Thanksgiving special in this universe next week? Some one shots? Thanks for reading!! So glad I wrapped this up on a Friday.

**Author's Note:**

> Um?? I don't even know. Hahah let me know what you think. I've never written smut before so I'm sorry if it sucks. Let me know if it does/how I can make it better if that is the case. Thanks for reading!


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